


The Lawyer, The Assassin, and The Time Jango Fett's Competency Kink Saved the Galaxy

by MultiFandomTrash_1304



Series: The Lawyer, The Mand'alor, and The Legal Shennanigans that Saved the Galaxy [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (but that comes way later), - Obi-Wan at some point, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boba is the only responsible one, Cody is a close second, Coruscant Court TV (CCTV) becomes very popular, Dooku dies but I ain't tagging that as major character death cause he barely matters, Fuck Qui-Gon Jinn the man can meet me in The Pit, Getting sent to assassinate someone is a classic meet cute, Hardcase Has ADHD (Star Wars), Idiots in Love, Interpret that as you will, It's a hit list, Jango Fett is Best Dad, Jango has a thing for cardigans now, Jango is a SIMP, Jango is a good dad, Jango wants one (1) DILF, Kinda, Law & Order: Mandalorian Edition, M/M, Mandalorian Competency Kink, Mutual Pining, Not Satine friendly I'm warning you, Obi rolled a Nat 20, Obi-Wan Kenobi Leaves the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan drinks tea in the courtroom, Obi-Wan goes by Ben but everyone is too dumb to realize it's a fake name, Obi-Wan has seduced half the galaxy, Obi-Wan is Best Dad, Obi-Wan is Best Older Brother, Obi-Wan is a cat, Obi-Wan is making a list and checking it twice, Obi-Wan spills the tea, Obi-Wan starring as flirty Mr. Rogers, Obi-Wan verbally wrecking everyone like the BAMF he is, Obi-Wan's justice boner, Oh also the Clones are actually geese, Palps get Recked, Palps is a disney villain, Roll to seduce the assassin, Satine and her pacifism can get wrecked, Secret Identity, The Senate is wrapped around his finger, The superior Korkie's dad theory, You cannot tell me otherwise, and a jetpack, and he fucking knows it, autocorrect is a bitch, but unfortunately he's spent too much time with Anakin and Rex, gonna find out who's heading straight to prison for crimes, like he fucking deserves, obi-wan kenobi is a nerd, peace was never an option, please be nice I'm begging you, this is my first fic, who needs mind tricks when you can just overload your charisma stats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiFandomTrash_1304/pseuds/MultiFandomTrash_1304
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi leaves the Jedi Order after Melida/Daan and becomes the most prominent lawyer in the galaxy, exposing corruption on the daily. Eventually Darth Sidious decides he's had enough of Kenobi wrecking his plans and orders Count Dooku to have him killed.Count Dooku hires Jango Fett for the job. This is a problem because Kenobi is, in Mandalorian standards, incredibly hot.TL;DR: Obi-Wan seduces Jango with his ability to make people cry on the witness stand.
Relationships: Adding as I go cause I refuse to remember all the interpersonal relationships, Boba Fett & Jango Fett, It's too much guys, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Clone Troopers, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Jocasta Nu, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Shmi Skywalker
Series: The Lawyer, The Mand'alor, and The Legal Shennanigans that Saved the Galaxy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046929
Comments: 184
Kudos: 1216
Collections: Anything But Qui-Gon





	1. Law at First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> So this is 100% the fault of one of my discord servers. They are enablers and I adore them. (It's like 95% Boli and Blake's fault) This is also my first fic ever, so... yay for that?
> 
> So, as it says on the label this involves Obi-Wan being a lawyer. I've taken a high school law class in the U.S. so the court proceedings and legal stuff is going to be loosely based on that. So if something doesn't seem to make sense to you, that's probably because the U.S.'s legal system is w e i r d. You have been warned. I will take a lot of liberties though, so hopefully that'll spice it up.
> 
> Enjoy

Sheev Palpatine

Darth Sidious paced back and forth in front of the windows that made up the back wall of his office as Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, glaring down at the speeders flying by in what passed for ‘night’ on a planet so eternally awake as Coruscant. The light of so many happy force signatures--all those sentients flying by--was sickening to the Sith Lord. They would all one day cower before the might of his eternal empire.

A day that was continuously being delayed by that damn Kenobi!

Sidious had assumed the man would be of little consequence when they first met. A mere lawyer untested in the real court of galactic politics, and unknown to anyone truly important. At the time a child barely out of his teenage years seemed inconsequential to the vast machinations that he and his Master had so artfully spun across the decades and centuries they had been plotting. After all, the boy had no power, and Sidious was already succeeding in his plan to become Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Had succeeded, as was evident by his current location. 

But then Sidious had watched as the boy brought the Trade Federation to its knees with a couple of words. Watched as he shook the status quo of the galaxy to its core in mere moments. And Sidious seethed at the audacity of that measly boy as he had continued to shake the galaxy with his disgusting temerity. As that child continued to do his level best to ruin every plan Sidious and his Master had painstakingly crafted and slotted into place. 

Every. Single. One.

Sidious had hoped, damn well prayed to the darkness--and any other planetary deities that might listen--to stop Kenobi after Naboo. But no, he had persisted. He had gone on a proverbial legal rampage through the galaxy leaving slavers and illicit corporations eviscerated and torn asunder in his wake. Torn down systems of oppression and liberated planets from tyrannical rulers -- beat back the beautiful darkness swallowing, devouring the galaxy with his disgusting light of justice and equality. Such childish notions. Such poisonous drivel.

And Kenobi had done it all with his words. 

Without truly lifting a finger this insolent little lifeform had been systematically tearing down all that brought darkness to the galaxy. And the child with his folly didn't even stop at the Core, or at the Mid Rim. No, he with his astounding hubris decided to wage war--a disgustingly peaceful one with no death and no destruction, how sickeningly quaint--on the treachery, the hives of scum and villainy of the Outer Rim. 

Now, Sidious hadn't gotten to where he was--achieved as much as he had in servitude to the darkness--without patience. He was careful, and he knew how to wait; how to tweak and pull on the threads of the galaxy's overarching tapestry, how to manipulate its beautiful madness to ensure that eventually what he wanted would fall into his lap. So, when Kenobi had started his naïve tirade across the galaxy Sidious had been willing to wait it out. To have patience. To wait for the nuisance to die as all things did. For his legacy to be forgotten and the galaxy to once again fall into exquisite, ravishing darkness.

But the child couldn't leave well enough alone. No, he had come after the Chancellor. This child--barely worth the oxygen he breathed in Sidious's opinion--had decided that the policies and laws pushed recently by Sidious and his loyalists in the Senate were 'unethical' and 'went against the constitution of the Republic' as well as a long list of obscure laws the boy seemed to revel in quoting. This idealistic, naive child was rallying to see him impeached.

Sidious was done waiting. 

Ben Kenobi had to go.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Yan Dooku

Count Yan Dooku of Serreno was a man of influence with much political reach across the galaxy and, unknown to most who knew him, substantial reach in the dark underbelly of the galaxy. So when his Master, Lord Sidious, had commed him demanding the death of that lawyer Kenobi--curse him and his effectiveness, many of Dooku's... “business ventures” had been ruined by that insufferable man--Dooku had been ready with just the bounty hunter for the job.

"Fett. How wonderful to see you are still alive," he greeted as the comm call connected. A secure one of course. The Force knew what meddling his former Master--curse Yoda and everything he stands for--would do should he find out his precious former Padawan was dealing with bounty hunters.

"Count, this better be good. I seem to remember informing you I wouldn't be taking any jobs for the foreseeable future," the Mandalorian practically growled his reply, clearly unhappy. Not that Dooku could tell all that well with the man's helmet securely obscuring his face. He hated negotiating with Mandalorians.

"I assure you, it is. An...associate of mine is willing to pay quite handsomely for the death of a certain lawyer that had been causing him many problems as of late," Dooku peered at the flickering blue of the holo-call. Fett must have been far from civilization for such a weak signal.. How interesting.

Fett tilted his head to the side in interest and grunted. "How much we talking? I’ll remind you," Fett growled, "that I was very insistent that I not be bothered. So we better be talking a hefty bounty." 

Dooku fought to hide his smirk. Excellent. Nodding, he replied. "I assure you, Ser Fett, it will be well worth it. My associate is willing to pay you ten million physical credits for a job well done, fifteen million if you make it look like an accident," Dooku didn't fight the smirk this time. For all he couldn't read Fett's facial expression, it was obvious that he had captured the man's attention. Fett shifted where he stood looking at something out of view before looking back at Dooku and nodding.

"Alright Count, send me the details. Who has the credits currently?" 

Dooku raised an eyebrow at the question. "Why do you ask, Ser Fett?" The Mandalorian shrugged.

"Call it a professional inquiry for the sake of job security." Dooku sighed quietly. Mandos and their--not undeserved, mind you--caution. 

"If you must know, it is currently in my possession."

"Alright," Fett replied, nodding, "It will be done. Fett out." And with that the hologram of Fett flickered out of existence and Dooku smiled in satisfaction. Everything was going to plan. Soon, Ben Kenobi would be dead and Dooku would be rewarded by his Master for his loyalty.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Jango Fett

He would never admit it, but Jango didn't hate Coruscant. Not completely, at least. Don't get him wrong, it was definitely a terrible planet. No plants, no true life anywhere to be found and the corruption this Manda forsaken hellhole was steeped would put even the worst of the Outer Rim planets to shame. But, with all that said, he still always marveled at the diversity of the place, at the sheer number of species and cultures surviving together in harmony. It soothed something broken and twisted deep inside him that always ached when he thought of what Mandalore had once been, and what a soulless place it had become under the Pretender.

So, while the planet was horrible, he didn't completely mind it. At the very least, the chaos of the place made completing bounties just that much easier when the target was a resident of the Republic's center. Like his current bounty.

Finding Kenobi hadn't been nearly as difficult as many of his other jobs. The man was a well known figure in the Republic and outside of it; whenever he was on Coruscant--especially for a case--it seemed like the entire galaxy would know within the tenday. So, Kenobi had been easy to find; but that wasn't the only anomaly with this hunt compared to his others. Kenobi was easy to find  _ when he was on Coruscant.  _ Jango had asked around and seemingly no one in the entirety of the galaxy's criminal underground knew where Kenobi lived--or if they did, no one who was willing to tell.

Luckily for him though, Kenobi was currently the prosecuting attorney on an incredibly high profile case involving the Banking Clan, which had been accused of--among other things--tax fraud and violation of several Republic Occupational Safety and Health Administration (ROSHA) labor regulations regarding their dealings in the Outer Rim.

A case Jango was currently witnessing from the second row of the gallery of one of the most secure courtrooms in the galaxy. And dralyc'kara, the Banking Clan was losing.  _ Hard. _

It was almost laughable, really. From the very start of this trial, Kenobi had been destroying every argument made in defense of the Banking Clan, and if Jango was a betting man he would have put money on their Representative--a stout Balosar--bursting into tears before his cross examination was over. It was honestly quite entertaining to slowly watch all hope fade from the being's eyes as the trial progressed. Best entertainment he'd had in  _ years. _

Jango pulled himself from his thoughts and focused on Kenobi. His target was an interesting man to look at. Bright ginger hair--an exceedingly rare color in the galaxy--and stunningly bright green-blue eyes hidden behind thin-framed square glasses. He was dressed in a way that wouldn't be unusual among professors at Coruscant's Universities, all soft edges and neutral colors with sweaters and cardigans aplenty. If Jango didn't know any better, he would have described the man as adorable and soft.

Thank the Ka'ra he knew better.

Kenobi may have looked sweet and inexplicably soft, but Jango was sure at this point that the way he dressed was a deliberate ploy by the man to lull his legal opponents into a false sense of security. After all, the second he opened his mouth it was obvious he was out for blood.

"Shall we review the facts of the case as they have thus been revealed for the benefit of the jury, your Honor?" Kenobi asked, addressing not only the defendant and the judge but the courtroom at large. The way the man effortlessly commanded such a degree of control with just a sentence was stunning to witness.

And if Jango were to be honest with himself, kriffing hot as well but it's a good thing he was a master at lying to himself. He definitely did  _ not _ think Kenobi was a valid argument for the Mandalorian obsession with those skilled in all forms of combat--verbal included.

"Proceed," the Judge--a tall Nautoloan man named Bogg Gahveel--stated, motioning around the court with his gavel, "the floor is yours, Mr. Kenobi."

Kenobi nodded and smiled--who gave him the  _ right _ to look so lovely when he smiled--while bowing his head slightly. "Thank you, Your Honor," he turned to face the jury, "Gentle-beings of the jury. Today we have confirmed the validity and authenticity of the following facts in this case: the representative of the Intergalactic Banking Clan, Ser Ommit Ividens has admitted under oath that the Banking Clan, though claiming to operate as an independent commerce guild in the Core and Mid and Outer Rims, does in fact have heavy business ties and binding contracts with many groups in the Outer Rim, including the Hutt Cartel and the Black Sun Crime Syndicate," Kenobi turned to face the nervous Balosar and gestured to him. "Do you deny that that is what you said, Ser Ividens?"

"No, I do not deny that that is what I said."

Kenobi gave a small smile. "Thank you, Ser Ividens. Now," he turned back to face the jury, "what has also been revealed to us through evidence gathered by Republic Judicial forces, evidence Ser Ividens has admitted to the authenticity of, is the undeniable fact that despite the reality of their business ties, the Intergalactic Banking Clan has continued to file their taxes as an independent commerce guild, violating Republic Tax Code 42069. This is aside from the illegality of the existence of those ties in the first place," Kenobi paused and looked at Ividens, "luckily for Ser Ividens, the prosecution of that particular charge against the Intergalactic Banking Clan will have to wait for a different trial and therefore should not be used in your consideration of the verdict today. What 'should' be used in your consideration, however," he again turned to face the Jury, "is the fact that, through several testimonies by the prosecution today, the court has verified the fact that through its labor practices, the Banking Clan has violated ROSHA regulations and guidelines 4214, 358, 9, and 79," Kenobi smiled that brilliant smile of his, "I think I've covered everything there," the jury and several beings in the gallery chuckled at that, "so I will leave it there. A good day to you all," and Kenobi sat down among the rest of the prosecution.

The defense, suffice to say, were the picture of despair and Jango was trying his best not to break down laughing at the incredulity of the fact that someone had finally--seemingly--been able to pin the Banking Clan for at least some of their illegal dealings. 

He was also trying very hard not to think about how kriffing gorgeous Kenobi looked while verbally destroying his opponents. Trying, and failing miserably. Because dralyc'kara, was he  _ gorgeous. _

Something Jango remembered vividly of Mandalore was the sheer number of Mando'ade who would fight each other for the right to say the Riduurok with one of Mandalore's diplomats--the Mando'ade trained to be as lethal with their words as with their blasters. And honestly, when it came to Kenobi, Jango found that he understood those who fought over them completely. 

This was going to be an interesting hunt.


	2. The Most Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango is trying his best. Obi-Wan's best is just a little bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, and left kudos. Y'all had me nearly crying several times for the level of validation! 
> 
> I also wanna thank my betas. Y'all are wonderful.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter!  
> ~-~-~-~-~
> 
> Me while writing this: Wait isn't breaking and entering a crime?  
> Obi-Wan: Only if you get caught!
> 
> I believe him. He's a lawyer. He knows what he's talking about.

Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi

It had been a rather long day in court and Obi-Wan was exhausted. The case would have been--kriffing  _ should _ have been--open, shut, and over within a half an hour; that was, if the Banking Clan representative hadn't decided it was apparently a smart idea to  _ try to lie on the witness stand. _ The being had had the bold-faced  _ audacity _ to claim that the Banking Clan wasn't breaking any ROSHA guidelines by forcing Mon Calamari employees to work in insufficiently humid work environments. Really. How dumb did they think he was? And then he tried to  _ defend _ that argument with a kriffing  _ hand written letter  _ on  _ flimsi _ that was supposedly from some inspector. Truly, the stupidity of some people astounded him.

Oh, and do  _ not _ even get him started on the tax fraud. The money laundering under the table with the Hutts was obvious! It was a damn miracle it took them this long to get caught. Then again, he mused, the Republic Judicial Forces didn't have psychometry. He'd have to remember to thank Quin for that particular bit of evidence later. One great thing about evidence gathered by Jedi: it was nigh impossible to get it thrown out under Republic law. Really, he was just thankful that the witness folded like wet flimsi when questioned on that subject; it made his job much easier. And then promptly lit on metaphorical fire--as the flimsi was apparently soaked in cheap booze--when Obi-Wan had pointed out the inconsistencies and contradictions  _ in their confession. _ It was always astonishing when the guilty party tried to confess while still lying. Really, it was like they thought they were actually fooling anyone--they were not.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes while packing up his briefcase--the case having been won, obviously--and winced, massaging the bridge of his nose. Ser Ividens, in addition to apparently not understanding the basic principle of  _ don't lie under oath _ , was also, unfortunately, one of the sort that projected their emotions into the Force. Loudly. His intense fear and anxiety--as well as his unquestionable guilt--were incredibly grating on Obi-Wan's mental shields, airtight as they were. He wondered if Jo had any tea for that.

"Ser Kenobi!" A voice called from behind him. Turning, Obi-Wan was met with one of the witnesses for the prosecution, a lovely Mon Calamari woman named Salah Monn. Monn also happened to be Ividens' personal secretary and she had kept  _ incredibly _ meticulous notes on every shady thing her soon-to-be-former boss had done. Truly, a lifesaver for this case.

"Lady Monn!" He replied cheerfully, "I must thank you for all the help you've given us. I fear we might have lost the case if not for you!" He shook her offered hand with both of his, giving her a smile Siri often liked to describe as ' _ too kriffing bright how the heck can you look that happy you depressed bitch _ .’ And Siri wondered why her Master made her retake a 'How to Interact with Civilians' class 15 times. 

Salah blushed a deep orange and looked shyly to the side. "You flatter me, Ser Kenobi. Really, all I did was give you some of my notes! You're the one who won us the case." She retracted her hand and bowed slightly. "My co-workers and I cannot thank you enough." 

Obi-Wan gave her a soft smile and adjusted his glasses. "Please, Lady Monn, call me Ben. Anyone with enough dedication to document how often the thermostat changes in the bathroom, of all places, has more than earned the right to address me by my given name."

Salah laughed, covering her grinning mouth with her hand in a vain attempt to silence the sound. "Well then, Ben," she said through her laughter, "I must insist that you call me Salah!"

Before the conversation could continue, Ividens shouted out as he was being led away by the bailiff, "Damn you, Salah! You snitch! Don't you dare come into the office, you're fired!" Obi-Wan heard a few gallery members gasp and a couple others snicker at the utter lack of class with which Ividens had decided to conduct himself now that he had--quite spectacularly--lost. 

"Oh no," Salah replied, utterly deadpan, "whatever shall I do now that I don't have to work under you? I'm so distraught at this  _ terrible _ news." 

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, using his hand and a cough as a cover for his chuckle. "Ser Ividens," he called out, "I suggest, for your benefit, that you address Ser Monn with respect. I won't have you mistreating one of my employees in such a manner." Ividens spluttered in indignation as he was led away, more laughter breaking out in the gallery. Obi-Wan turned to Salah and gave her a rather cheeky smile. "That is, if you'd like to join my staff? I was thinking as a researcher?"

"Oh?" Salah asked, smiling right back. "Will the pay be worth my while?"

"Absolutely. Three times what Ividens paid you."

"Consider me thoroughly hired!"

They shook hands, laughing as they did. "If you would like to see the offices before returning to your hotel, Padawan Rea'sera can show you around," he said, pointing to a rather short Pantoran teenager walking their way. "Unfortunately, I have more business to attend to that I can't delay."

Salah nodded. "I understand, Ben. I must ask though, how did you get a Jedi Padawan as a research assistant?"

Ben laughed. "The Coruscant Temple's head Archivist, Madame Jocasta Nu, is a good friend of mine. She thought it would be an excellent learning opportunity for each of her aspiring archivists to work with me for a few standard months as research assistants," he placed a hand on Padawan Rea'sera's shoulder as they stopped beside him, "and I honestly can't complain. They're all very diligent workers. Plus," he said, dropping his voice to a rather unconvincing stage whisper, "anyone who knows Madame Nu knows it is never a good idea to tell her 'no' about something that concerns the Archives." Obi-Wan smiled and chuckled as the other two beings laughed. 

Salah turned to Padawan Rea'sera and bowed slightly. "I don't think we've been introduced yet! My name is Salah Monn, she/her/hers."

Rea'sera bowed back, smiling. "Senior Padawan Ruyi Rea'sera, they/them/theirs. It's wonderful to meet you, Ser Monn."

"I'm afraid I must leave you both now; regretfully, my next appointment awaits." With that, Obi-Wan waved goodbye to the two and left the courtroom, making his way through the slowly thinning crowd outside and towards the front entrance. Centering himself in the Force, he carefully focused on the individual signatures of the many beings around him, looking for a very particular one-

There! Trailing him at a distance was the peculiar signature that had been so utterly focused on his every move--and, to be frank, his rear end--during the trial. It was sharp in the Force, incredibly controlled and displaying a degree of mental fortitude usually only found in Jedi, the secretaries of particularly annoying politicians, and seasoned warriors.

Interesting.

It was a beautiful Force-signature, he had to admit. With how focused it had been on him during the trial, Obi-Wan had been able to get a read of its surface emotions. Duty-family-honor and compassion-dedication-loyalty churning together, dancing gracefully with one another in a way that could be mistaken for brawling and spiking out with brilliant, pointed flames of such burning intensity every few moments, like it was proclaiming to the galaxy its virtue and strength of spirit. But shining over those had been one particular emotional combination, and it had been focused solely at him.

Adoration-arousal-awe.

Interesting indeed.

He supposed the man could be another assassin sent by some corrupt businessman or politician; it certainly wouldn't be the first time. However, this one seemed quite different and Obi-Wan truly couldn't help himself. Bant would definitely yell at him about his lack of self preservation later, but he wanted to see where this went. Besides, the Force seemed to like the idea, and really, Bant, who was he, a mere mortal, to deny the will of the Force?

Mind made up on his course of action, Obi-Wan focused back on the present. Ignoring the other Force-signatures around, he zeroed in on the possible assassin's and opened his eyes. The mystery being was closer now, staring right at him with a vibrant intensity. As he exited the courthouse, Obi-Wan took a sharp right and, wrapping himself in an incredibly strong don't-look-at-me Force suggestion, vaulted over the crowd exiting the building below and landed in a crouch on the opposite side of the giant double doors. Blending in with the crowd around him, he turned slightly to face the door and pulled out his comm, setting it to record. 

Not ten seconds later, the owner of the dancing-fighting-fire signature walked out the doors. As the stranger looked left, Obi-Wan zoomed the video being taken by his comm in on his face. The stranger then turned and walked off to the right, supposedly to continue trailing Obi-Wan.

Satisfied, Obi-Wan turned and walked to the side of the courthouse, ducking swiftly into the alleyway beside it. He walked at a leisurely pace for a while until he reached a pile of boxes as set his briefcase down atop them. Opening it, he pulled out his datapad and transferred the holovideo he had taken from his comm to said datapad. He'd have to remember to thank Quin later for telling him about this spot. Who knew Judicial wouldn't monitor the alley next to the Senate District Courthouse?

He rolled his eyes. The incompetence was astounding.

Obi-Wan focused on the holovideo currently being displayed, pausing it as it focused on the mystery stalker's face. The maybe-assassin appeared to be a human--or at least a near-human--man with rather soft, kind features. And yet, there was still a hardness to his eyes, an air of caution yet surety to his stance. 

And kriff, was he  _ gorgeous _ .

But that was beside the point. The point here was to run the mystery man's face through Coruscant Judicial's database of known bounty hunters, assassins, and other ne'er-do-wells. Which was what Obi-Wan was going to do, after he stared at the man's scar-dappled face for a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Pulling himself together, Obi-Wan quickly typed in several long lines of code, hacking into Coruscant Judicial's database without leaving a trace of his presence. His program took a minute or two to run but eventually gave him the answer he was looking for.

>>>>Person Identified: Jango Fett, Clan Fett, House Mereel

Known Aliases: (Unknown)

Status: Bounty Hunter; Alive

Age: 36 Standard

Year of Birth: 939 ARR

Species: Near-Human Male; Mandalorian 

Family: Mother: (Unknown); (Deceased)

Father: (Unknown); (Deceased)

Sister: (Unknown); (Unknown)

Father: (Adoptive); Jaster Mereel, Mand'alor the Reformer; (Deceased)

Planet of Origin: Concord Dawn, Concord Dawn System, Mandalore Sector, Outer Rim

Current Location: (Unknown)

Last Known Location: Hutt Space

Modus Operandi: Varied

Weapon of Choice: Dual WESTAR-34 Blaster Pistols

Known Associates: Hondo Ohnaka

Other: Note, as of 10 standard years ago (965) Ser Fett ceased taking extensive, long-term bounties and began taking shorter ones. Cause unknown.<<<<

So, Jango Fett was hunting him? Obi-Wan frowned. As he saw it, there were two possible paths he could take here. Option one, a lengthy game of tooka-and-mouse across the whole of Coruscant which would almost certainly--almost being the key word here--result in Fett being captured and imprisoned by Judicial forces. Or, there was option two. He smirked. Option two was  _ much _ more fun.

Looking back down at the datapad before him, Obi-Wan set to work slicing into the local network in record time--Jo would be proud--and cross-referencing the guest registry of every hotel within a ten mile radius of the Senate District Courthouse with any possible alias he could think of. Fett had been impeccably dressed in the courtroom, no Beskar'gam in sight, and all the nearby spaceports had a policy against customers using them as cheap hotels while on-planet. Therefore, the logical conclusion was that Fett had rented out a room somewhere and stowed everything necessary for a hunt there. Now it was just a matter of finding out where exactly his base of operations was. 

"So that's where you're hiding out," Obi-Wan murmured after a few minutes of searching. The Binary Stars, a rather nice place roughly seven miles from the Courthouse he was standing beside. It was five miles from Obi-Wan's legal office--and interestingly enough, only six miles from Little Manda'yaim. It was perfect for the job Fett had--possibly, as he only had his suspicions--come here to carry out. Obi-Wan had to quickly stifle a laugh when he saw just  _ which  _ of his guessed aliases had nailed him his target.

Janog Vhett. So either Fett was uncreative in picking pseudonyms or had a fantastically weird sense of humor. He privately hoped it was both.

With a loose plan in mind Obi-Wan turned off the datapad, closed his briefcase and, keeping in mind room number 652, set off to the other end of the alley where his personal speeder was parked. All the while, he could hear the Force insistently whispering in his ear, life-filed harmonies and crescendos of the future intertwining to create a melody telling him exactly what the Force deemed necessary for him to hear. _ Follow follow follow _ it said.  _ Yes, follow. Mand'alor. Justice bringer. Followfollowfollowfollowlittleone. _

He had a Mandalorian to catch.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Jango Fett

Jango had lost Kenobi.  _ He kriffing lost Kenobi. _ How the kriff do you even lose a skinny ginger lawyer twink? One second, Kenobi had been in his line of sight heading out of the courthouse; next thing he knew, Kenobi had turned right and vanished. And Jango, for the life of him, could not figure out how he had done it. Baseline humans--which is what  _ every _ source he had said Kenobi was--couldn't move fast enough to evade him that spectacularly. That... effortlessly.

It’d been a while since he'd had such a challenge. And he  _ loved _ a challenge. Oh, by the Manda and Ka'ra did he love a good hunt. Which, as evidenced by the fact that Jango  _ had no idea where the target was, _ was exactly what this bounty was going to be.

Jango thought back to how Kenobi had looked in the courtroom as he was destroying the defendant's life before their very eyes. It had been breathtaking to witness such cutting words, and his eloquence was astonishing. But truly, the best sight in that room had been the man himself. His hair was like fire and even from a distance, his beautiful blue-green eyes had looked deep enough to swim in. And if his clothes really were a tactic he employed to lull everyone into a false sense of security, then  _ dralyc'kara _ did it work damn well. The cardigan Kenobi had been wearing, despite being slightly loose on his figure, had made him look irresistibly soft, in Jango's humble opinion. And don't even get him  _ started _ on that ass in those pants--

Kriff. He was getting distracted. He needed to focus on the mission at hand and locate his target, not fantasize about how fantastic the target's ass looked in formal dress slacks. Jango sighed; this bounty was going to be the death of him, he was sure. If not from him actually dying, then at least from all the osik Boba would give him if he ever found out about this.

Boba was  _ not _ allowed to find out. Ever.

Coming back to reality, Jango walked up to the door to his hotel room and, opening it, stepped inside and hung the coat he had been using to conceal his Westars on the hanger beside the door. He was gonna need some caff after thi--

"Hello there."

Jango froze and slowly turned to face the far end of the room where, sitting in a chair in front of the open balcony doors--doors that were  _ not _ open by any means and were in fact  _ booby trapped _ when he left this morning--lounging like he kriffing owned the place, was the very target he had just been lamenting about.

"Ser Kenobi. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations
> 
> Manda'yaim - The planet Mandalore  
> Beskar'gam - Armor, specifically Mandalorian armor  
> Manda - The collective soul or heaven; the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit; also supreme, overarching, guardian-like  
> Ka'ra - Stars; ancient Mandalorian myth; ruling council of fallen kings  
> Dralyc'kara - Roughly 'brightest stars.' I used it as the Mando'a version of 'holy shit'  
> Osik - Dung (impolite) (Ok Mando'a dictionary was written by cowards we all know it means shit)
> 
> Other Stuff  
> -ARR stands for "After Ruusan Reformation" as they wouldn't be using BBY since the Battle of Yavin hasn't happened yet.  
> -So if anyone payed attention to the personal file I made on Jango (and did the math to translate ARR to BBY) I have made him 5 years younger than canon. Therefore, he's 4 years older than Obi-Wan, not 9.  
> -Little Manda'yaim is essentially a Mandalorian 'China Town.' 
> 
> So fun fact, the chapter title is a reference to the short story called "The Most Dangerous Game" written by Richard Connal in 1924. It's a really good read. But most importantly, anyone who knew this would have essentially already know the plot to this chapter! (I'm a literature nerd, sue me.)
> 
> No for real though after writing this chapter I realized the book and this chapter had nearly the exact same ending.


	3. Dad Sweaters and Other Illusions of Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango is simultaneously having the best and worst day of his life. Obi-Wan's just having a fun time being a chaotic bitch.
> 
> Warning: This killed 1 out of 3 of my Betas and Jango is a horny highschooler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for absolutely nothing. 
> 
> (Many thanks to my Betas. And no mercy for Blake who was yelling at me while reading this for the first time.)

Obi-Wan "Ben" Kenobi

Breaking into Fett's hotel room had been harder than Obi-Wan expected. It had taken him at least 40 minutes to disassemble the plethora of traps attached to the balcony doors without injuring himself. Impressive on Fett's part, he had to admit. Many of them, had he not been as well-versed in mechanical devices as he was, probably would have taken a limb--or two--off. He had to wonder how one can even  _ get _ paralytics that strong past Coruscant customs. He'd ask Quin later. Quin would know. He'd never tell Obi-Wan  _ how _ he knew--plausible deniability and all that--but he'd certainly know.

Even with his mechanical knowledge, however, the Force had had to warn him of impending danger several times. A point for Fett at least. The more Obi-Wan learned about the man--beyond what he had learned from his regular research binges in the Archives--the more fascinating he became. 

Nevertheless, the traps had been the easy bit. If Obi-Wan were to be completely honest with himself--and Dr. Dolorem was always saying he should try to be--the hardest part of his impromptu breaking and entering had been finding the optimal place and way in which to sit and wait in order to make his entrance--or, rather, Fett's reaction upon his entry--as dramatic as possible.

Obi-Wan freely admitted to his status as a drama queen; Shmi made sure to inform him and Anakin regularly of their positions as such. Padme--his best friend, platonic love of his life--had even joined her in the teasing recently. The traitor.

In his defense, however, the look of shock and surprise on Fett's face when Obi-Wan called out to him had been  _ well _ worth the two hours he took finding the right place to sit.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Jango Fett

Kenobi looked gorgeous in the light the setting sun had cast on him through the open balcony doors. From Jango's spot by the entrance to the room, Kenobi appeared to be wreathed in an almost ethereal light, like Manda itself was shining out from within him with the strength of a supernova and setting his hair alight. An angel wreathed in fire, come down among the mortals to bring about Manda's justice.

Ka'ra, he was head over heels. 

Never one to throw away caution due to a beautiful face--and what a lie that was--Jango pulled his Westars out of the concealed pockets in which they had been previously hiding and made sure Kenobi could see them. It was bad enough he had been caught off guard at his own base of operations, he wasn't going to let Kenobi get comfortable thinking Jango wasn't armed too.

Kriff. Kenobi had managed to break into Jango's space and he  _ did not like that.  _ No Mando'ade would. The thought that an enemy--was he really an enemy?--could so easily find and infiltrate any hideout, no matter how temporary, would put any true Mando'ade on edge.

"What are you doing here?" He heard himself ask sharply. He was unnerved, caught off guard, and on uneven footing, but that was no excuse for any lapses in judgement.

Kenobi stood up and stretched languidly, mouth open wide and yawning like a tooka waking up from a long nap. It took all of Jango's willpower not to let his eyes wander down and watch how Kenobi's sweater rode up with the action, exposing a beautiful section of his freckled midriff. That kind of distraction would do him no good right now.

Kenobi grinned wide, showing most of his teeth. Most species--baseline humans included--would have interpreted it as joyful and welcoming, almost playful if perhaps a little too eager due to the amount of teeth being shown. A rule of thumb for Mandalorians, however, was that none born into the culture were baseline  _ anything _ \--a rule the rest of the galaxy seemed to forget. So to Jango--and whatever predator ancestors he had had--the smile was a little different. And from the glint in Kenobi's eye when he saw the way Jango subtly shifted his stance, the man knew it too.

It was welcoming, sure. A little playful even. But most importantly, it was a  _ challenge _ . A challenge of what, however, had yet to be seen.

"Well," Kenobi said, sounding like a respectable gentleman and not someone who had just broken into a hotel room via the balcony doors, "I thought it would be obvious. I was waiting for you."

Jango suddenly regretted wearing tight pants.

"And why," he asked, "would Ser Ben Kenobi, foremost lawyer of the Republic, be waiting for me in my hotel room?" He shifted his stance again, Westars now on full display. "Last I checked, I haven't broken any laws that would require me to hire a lawyer to represent me."

Kenobi chuckled, a deep, smooth sound. "Calm yourself, Ser Fett." He leaned against the chair he had previously been sitting in, one arm resting across the back while the other gestured as he spoke. "I promise you, my purposes for being here are perfectly innocent. However," Kenobi gave him a slow once over, eyes lingering on Jango's waist before rising to his face. He brought his other hand up to rest his chin on and grinned. "I'm sure I could be convinced otherwise."

Kenobi slowly straightened his stance and started leisurely walking towards Jango. "I really must ask why you were trailing me, Ser Fett." Kenobi titled his head slightly to the side. "It's a matter of personal security for me. I'm sure you understand." Kenobi's eyes almost seemed to gleam in the dark of the room, as Jango still hadn't turned on the light. As he got closer Jango shifted slightly, ready to fly into a fighting stance at a moment's notice. But before he knew it Kenobi was right in front of him, barely a foot away. 

Jango raised one of his blasters and pointed it between Kenobi's eyes. "Nothing personal, I assure you. Just a matter of business."

"Oh?" Kenobi said. He leaned forward until the bridge of his nose was resting against the blaster, staring Jango down across the top of the barrel with an oddly playful belligerence shining in his eyes. "Does this business have anything to do with your regular line of work?"

"Depends," Jango said, clicking off the safety. The soft click rang out like a thunderbolt in the quiet room. "What do you know of my regular line of work?"

Kenobi grinned again. "Oh you know," he said, baring too-sharp teeth, "just everything that was written in your Republic Judicial file."

Jango raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He asked. "And how did you get your hands on that? Last I checked they only handed those out to lawyers when they pertain to an active case." He pressed the blaster a little harder into Kenobi's--gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking--face. "And as I said before, I haven't broken any laws."

"Well," Kenobi drawled, as though he hadn't a care in the world, "I'm quite good at slicing, and I figured I'd save us an extensive game of tooka and mouse across all of Coruscant and just bring myself here. Saves us both a lot of effort."

"And what, you'd be the tooka in this scenario?"

"Obviously."

Faster than Jango's eye could tract, Kenobi had taken both of the blasters out of his hands and thrown them across the room. Within the next second, he was sprawled on the ground with Kenobi straddling his hips and pinning his arms above his head with one hand. The other arm was across Jango’s throat, applying pressure to his windpipe.

Kenobi’s blue-green eyes stared into Jango's very soul. 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Obi-Wan "Ben" Kenobi

Obi-Wan looked down at Fett underneath him and was entranced by the amber-gold of his eyes. From across the room, he had mistaken them as a simple brown.  _ Force _ how wrong he'd been. The many different shades mixed together like a river of gold, making his eyes look like honey in the mid-afternoon sun. 

Holos did not do this man justice. He was absolutely, breathtakingly,  _ stunning _ .

And his Force signature,  _ little gods _ was this man stunning inside and out. Obi-Wan had been able to sense his dancing-fighting-fire presence as soon as Fett had stepped inside the building. The man was in no way Force-Sensitive, but his soul was so vibrant and willful and  _ loud _ ; it called out--nearly shouting--to Obi-Wan in a way few had ever before. And like crossing the event horizon of a blackhole, Obi-Wan was helpless to escape his gravity. With how the Force sang to him when around this man, he didn’t think he'd ever want to. His song was of hope-change-salvation- _ future _ and Obi-Wan wanted to listen to it until the day he died and even after that.

He shifted his hips slightly and grinned. "Is that a blaster in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" He asked the man below him. From the dark flush he could just barely see creeping its way up Fett's neck mixed with the fact that Fett was Mandalorian, Obi-Wan figured it was both.

"Do you have any true intention to kill me, Ser Fett?" He asked, dropping his grin for a more serious glare. Fett opened his mouth to respond, but Obi-Wan pressed his arm across the man's neck, effectively cutting off his answer. He leaned down further until his mouth was right next to the other's left ear. "And I promise you," he whispered, shifting the arm across his neck so Fett could feel the hidden blade he had strapped under his sleeve. "I'll know if you're lying."

Rising back up and looking him in the eye, Obi-Wan relieved some of the pressure he had been applying to Fett's windpipe and allowed him to speak.

"No, I have no actual intention to kill you," Fett whispered. The Force rang out louder than a Krayt Dragon with the truth of his quiet admission.

"Well then," Obi-Wan said, leaning down until their noses were barely touching. "That makes things much easier." He sat up, releasing Fett's hands, and leaned back. On a--rather impulsive--whim, Obi-Wan stopped supporting his weight with his legs. Rather, he put more pressure on his current seat of choice--Fett's lap.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Jango Fett

Kenobi looked like a kriffing irresistible dream from Jango's position on the floor. Red hair messed up spectacularly, knit sweater falling down one of his shoulders and exposing pale, freckled skin underneath. And his eyes, Manda, his  _ eyes. _ They held such bright, enduring  _ life _ within them.

And those eyes told Jango that this gorgeous little shit knew  _ exactly _ what he was kriffing doing, shifting his weight over like that. 

"So then, Ser Fett, to what do I owe the illustrious honor of your stalking?" Kenobi asked, smiling down at him like the tooka that caught the kriffing canary. The shabuir somehow managed to look kriffing  _ seductive _ while doing it too. 

Well, if he wanted to play that game, Jango could play right back. 

"I wanted to give you a warning," he said while moving his hands to rest on Kenobi's hips, slipping the tips of his fingers under the bottom of the man's sweater, "and an offer." Jango curled his pointer fingers underneath the waistband of Kenobi's pants. All the while, internally screaming at himself asking  _ what the  _ kriff  _ he thought he was doing. _ The answer being that he, in fact,  _ wasn't _ thinking. At all.

Boba would call it gay panic; Jango preferred to call it a temporary lapse in cognitive function. Boba was ten. He didn't get an opinion.

Kenobi gave him a deadly smile. Jango in that moment realized that this man could eat him alive, and Jango would let him.

"Eager, aren't you, Ser Fett?" Kenobi asked, voice so low he nearly sounded like he was purring.

"Jango, call me Jango," he gasped out, like a man breathing air for the very first time. 

Kenobi grinned, leaning down and caressing the right side of Jango's face with calloused fingers. "Then I must insist you call me Ben, Jango." The way he said his name sent shivers down Jango's spine. "Unfortunately for you though, Jango," Ben said, smiling softly as he gently moved Jango's hands on the floor either side of him, "you'll have to take me on at least one date first before you can get me in your bed."

Ben stood up and ran his fingers through his hair, putting every strand back in perfect order. Jango watched in disappointment as the beauty before him fixed his sweater, walked over to the chair by the balcony doors, and pulled on a coat Jango hadn't even noticed was sitting there. Jango slowly stood up and made a vain attempt at making himself look remotely presentable.

"Here, this way I'll be able to send you the address of where to meet me tomorrow evening." Jango jerked his head up and looked at Ben, who was standing directly in front of him, holding a piece of torn flimsi in his outstretched hand.

"What's this?" Jango asked dumbly, still trying--and failing--to recover mentally from what had been happening only moments before. Ben chuckled.

"It’s my personal comm code, Jango. I ask that you burn the flimsi once you're done with it." A wry smile appeared on Ben's face. "The last thing I need is the press--or Force forbid the general public--getting ahold of it." Jango nodded, still not fully comprehending what the  _ kriff _ was going on.

"Wait!" He called out as Ben started walking towards the door. "What do you mean, 'tomorrow evening?'"

Ben smiled and laughed. "Why, for our date of course! You said you had a warning for me. We might as well discuss it over dinner." Ben winked. "Don't be late."

Jango starred, slack-jawed at the hotel room door as it shut behind the most alluring man he had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations
> 
> Ka'ra - Stars, ancient Mandalorian myth, ruling council of fallen kings  
> Mando'ade - Mandalorians (pl); sons and/ or daughters of Mandalore  
> Shabuir - So Mando'a Dictionary says it means 'jerk' but worse. I'm purposefully using it to mean 'Motherfucker.' You cannot stop me.
> 
> So yes. I almost gave one of my betas a heart attack. I feel no remorse.
> 
> Also, my thanks to everyone who comments. I read every single one and I appreciate all of you! All your comments really help encourage me to write more, so my sincerest thanks to all of you!

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a Translations
> 
> Mandalore - The Mandalore system as a whole. If I am referring to the planet, I will call it Manda'yaim  
> Dralyc'kara - Roughly 'brightest stars.' I used it as the Mando'a version of 'holy shit'  
> Ka'ra - Stars, ancient Mandalorian myth, ruling council of fallen kings  
> Mando'ade - Mandalorians (pl) - sons and/ or daughters of Mandalore  
> Riduurok - Mandalorian marriage vows
> 
> Other Stuff  
> -Ser is a gender neutral version of Mr. or Mrs. Ser is for someone of equal rank/importance to you, or lower. Serah is someone of higher rank/importance than you.  
> -ROSHA is just republic OSHA


End file.
